for a while. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay.”
I roared off.
CHAPTER 7
Trout won the game. I guess we scored a couple of quick ones after they carried Washington off and Salmon River lost their punch. At least that’s what Norm and Dakota said. I didn’t catch it firsthand.
The Buckhorn was closed for the game, but I have a key, so I let myself in the back way. Donkey Caulder was sitting propped up against the back of the building, drinking something out of a paper bag, shaking his head, and saying, “Bullshit.” I couldn’t have agreed more.
I got a couple of quarters out of the till, used one to punch up a little Emmy Lou on the jukebox and the other to rack up the balls on the pool table. The shades were pulled, and it was pretty dark, so I turned on the light over the table and hit the switch that activates thebeer signs, lighting up the Land of Sky Blue Waters and setting artesian water pouring over the falls. Dakota has these inserts you can put into the pockets to stop the balls from dropping all the way down, so he can shoot pool with his friends for free. Most times I don’t need them, to tell you the truth, because I can’t get the damn balls in the pockets anyway, but I put them in. Dakota says the best value for your dollar in these days of inflation and exaggerated prices is to play pool with Louie Banks. Takes forever. I guess I have missed a few easy shots in my time. Anyway, while Emmy Lou was having “sweet dreams” about me, I hacked around the table. I thought about pouring myself a shot of Jack Daniel’s that Dakota keeps under the bar for private use but decided that might be taking it a little far.
It’s funny what goes through your head when major things happen in your life, or at least things that you think are major. Like I was thinking how hard it would be to go buy something at Arney’s hardware store and how I’d avoid that if I could. And wondering if one of the second-stringers would get my uniform. I decided they’d probably retire it. I was thinking about regular things, too, like whether I’d made such a jerk out of myself that the whole town would stop talking to me. And how it would affect Norm and Brenda. And whatDakota would say. And whether Boomer Cowans would look me up. One thing I was sure about was Becky. The other thing I was sure about was that Lednecky was a turdhead, and nothing could make me go back or say I was sorry. It was too bad Trout was so small and there wasn’t another school I could go to so I’d never have to lay eyes on that scumbag again.
I wondered how Carter could rationalize staying on the team and what Coach Madison was thinking. He never seemed to go for any cheap crap, though he was pretty quiet about it.
I didn’t want to talk to anybody, so when I heard the band off in the distance strike up “Under the Double Eagle,” like they do after every win, I locked her up and headed up across the spillway, past Crown Point and out to the meadow where Becky and I had gone. I had a conversation with the tree, where I told it how things were going to be from now on, by God, then hiked up the side of the hill and sat on an old dead log and felt sorry for myself.
I got home late for dinner. Trace met me at the door and said she’d do the dishes for free. I told her that wouldn’t be necessary, that I wasn’t a football hero anymore, but she said she wanted to anyway. That was thefirst sign that there’d been a powwow. They were going to let me talk about it when I was ready.
I went and washed my hands and sat down at the table while Brenda put my dinner on. Norm was finished and was sitting there with the paper, but I could tell he wasn’t reading it.
“Becky called,” Brenda said. “She asked to have you call tonight.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll call her right after dinner.”
Norm put down the paper.
I shrugged. “I couldn’t help it,” I said. “It was a setup all the way. I couldn’t believe Arney
“Okay.”
I roared off.
CHAPTER 7
Trout won the game. I guess we scored a couple of quick ones after they carried Washington off and Salmon River lost their punch. At least that’s what Norm and Dakota said. I didn’t catch it firsthand.
The Buckhorn was closed for the game, but I have a key, so I let myself in the back way. Donkey Caulder was sitting propped up against the back of the building, drinking something out of a paper bag, shaking his head, and saying, “Bullshit.” I couldn’t have agreed more.
I got a couple of quarters out of the till, used one to punch up a little Emmy Lou on the jukebox and the other to rack up the balls on the pool table. The shades were pulled, and it was pretty dark, so I turned on the light over the table and hit the switch that activates thebeer signs, lighting up the Land of Sky Blue Waters and setting artesian water pouring over the falls. Dakota has these inserts you can put into the pockets to stop the balls from dropping all the way down, so he can shoot pool with his friends for free. Most times I don’t need them, to tell you the truth, because I can’t get the damn balls in the pockets anyway, but I put them in. Dakota says the best value for your dollar in these days of inflation and exaggerated prices is to play pool with Louie Banks. Takes forever. I guess I have missed a few easy shots in my time. Anyway, while Emmy Lou was having “sweet dreams” about me, I hacked around the table. I thought about pouring myself a shot of Jack Daniel’s that Dakota keeps under the bar for private use but decided that might be taking it a little far.
It’s funny what goes through your head when major things happen in your life, or at least things that you think are major. Like I was thinking how hard it would be to go buy something at Arney’s hardware store and how I’d avoid that if I could. And wondering if one of the second-stringers would get my uniform. I decided they’d probably retire it. I was thinking about regular things, too, like whether I’d made such a jerk out of myself that the whole town would stop talking to me. And how it would affect Norm and Brenda. And whatDakota would say. And whether Boomer Cowans would look me up. One thing I was sure about was Becky. The other thing I was sure about was that Lednecky was a turdhead, and nothing could make me go back or say I was sorry. It was too bad Trout was so small and there wasn’t another school I could go to so I’d never have to lay eyes on that scumbag again.
I wondered how Carter could rationalize staying on the team and what Coach Madison was thinking. He never seemed to go for any cheap crap, though he was pretty quiet about it.
I didn’t want to talk to anybody, so when I heard the band off in the distance strike up “Under the Double Eagle,” like they do after every win, I locked her up and headed up across the spillway, past Crown Point and out to the meadow where Becky and I had gone. I had a conversation with the tree, where I told it how things were going to be from now on, by God, then hiked up the side of the hill and sat on an old dead log and felt sorry for myself.
I got home late for dinner. Trace met me at the door and said she’d do the dishes for free. I told her that wouldn’t be necessary, that I wasn’t a football hero anymore, but she said she wanted to anyway. That was thefirst sign that there’d been a powwow. They were going to let me talk about it when I was ready.
I went and washed my hands and sat down at the table while Brenda put my dinner on. Norm was finished and was sitting there with the paper, but I could tell he wasn’t reading it.
“Becky called,” Brenda said. “She asked to have you call tonight.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll call her right after dinner.”
Norm put down the paper.
I shrugged. “I couldn’t help it,” I said. “It was a setup all the way. I couldn’t believe Arney
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